and then what happened?

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July 18, 2005

careful what you wish for

My mom is hysterical. She says the funniest things I have ever heard anyone say. The thing is, she isn't trying to be funny and she has no idea that she is funny or that she has single-handedly supplied me with the content for every stand up routine I have ever done.
The first time I ever had male roommates I was 25. Two friends of mine from college in Michigan had come out to visit and decided they liked it here. Several months later they came back and me, Bunny, Big D and Dunham rented a house together. My overprotective Catholic mother was appalled and worried that I might be having the S-E-X with them or something. Silly woman.
My overprotective mother is also short. Very short. 5” even.
These facts led to one of the funniest conversations I have ever had with her.
After her initial shock at there being boys under the same roof as her pure as the driven snow daughter (ahem), she actually warmed up to the idea, thinking that these boys would be protection against foul mouthed young hooligans who may try to make impolite advances on her precious baby.
To soothe her fears across the 2000-mile divide between us, I decided to talk up Big D and Dunham to let her know they were good guys and she should have no fears.
Dunham was a goofy dude and not too smooth. Aside from his bizarre night terrors and the way he left apple cores and the little stickers from the apples everywhere (seriously we found them in the shower, on the TV, we even found one stuck to the dog once), he wasn’t all that bad as roommates go.
But Big D I loved! He has the best sense of humor ever and he still cracks me up. The funniest of movies is 100% funnier when I watch it with Big D. He had two sisters and was used to living with girls. He was neat, clean, organized, paid his bills on time. He was the best. And Big D could hurt some fools if he wanted too. In any fight, he would be the one to save me if I couldn’t save myself.
Big D is called Big D for a reason. He stands a full 6’ 6” and he’s got some bulk to back it up. All of this I told my mother and my dad who was listening in on the other extension.
When I got to the part where I said, “Big D is 6’6”.
My mom said (and I repeat), “Boy, he’s tall. I wish I had six of his inches!” (say what??!)
Of course she meant she wished she was 5’6” but my dirty little mind went in a whole other direction with that and apparently so did my dad (now you know where I get it) and we both did a spit take laughing our asses off. I covered the receiver and started relaying this story to all of my roommates so they could have a good chuckle.
My mother continued on as if she didn’t even hear us, saying things like,
“He must have a huge bed.”
And, “Where does he buy pants that big?”
All of this only added to my spasms of laughter and finally she said, “What the hell are you guys laughing about? All I said was I wish I had six of his inches.” (more peals of laughter) At that moment she finally realized what had us on the verge of tears.
She didn’t find it amusing at all. We quickly reigned ourselves in and moved on to another subject. But the roommates and I would tease her about it on occasion and she would blush and mockingly scold.
Several years after the fact, at my wedding, Big D went up to my and said, “Hey Mrs. P, I brought you six inches.”
Now, that’s a thoughtful guy, bringing gifts for everyone.

Posted by bugg at July 18, 2005 06:33 PM

Comments

Posted by: melanie at July 18, 2005 10:03 PM

Posted by: Ms Bees Knees at July 19, 2005 07:21 PM